The Last Thing
by Jeanie205
Summary: Logan returns from his deployment to find that Veronica Mars is back in town. She came for the Neptune High reunion and stayed to solve Carrie Bishop's murder, but none of it had anything to do with Logan, who never dated Carrie and was still at sea when it all went down. But he's back now...and Veronica's still here...and maybe they have one more chance to get it right.


The last thing Logan Echolls had expected to hear when he returned from a nine-month deployment in the spring of 2016 was that Veronica Mars was back in Neptune.

It was Dick Casablancas who gave him the news.

Logan owned a condo in San Diego, but each time he returned stateside for an extended leave, he spent the first part of it in Neptune at Dick's beach house, a pattern they'd begun after his first deployment. Dick always invited him to come for the surfing, and Logan always agreed. But really, it was a way to hang onto the only real "family" that either of them had had in years.

They did spend most of their time out on the water, and that could never be a bad thing. In fact, it was while they were paddling out toward an enormous wave that Dick dropped his bomb. And as with most of Dick's conversational gambits, it came out of the blue.

"Ronnie's back."

Logan whipped his head around, the oncoming wave entirely forgotten.

" _What did you say?"_ He was sure he must have misheard. Their voices were often obscured and distorted by the roar of the ocean.

"She's back." Dick raised his voice and shrugged. "I...uh...I just thought you'dk want to know, just in case you run into her or some shit like that."

Logan was silent for a moment, before abruptly turning his board and paddling for shore. He knew it wasn't rational, but he couldn't pretend that the news that Veronica was in town hadn't shot his concentration all to hell.

"Hey, dude, what the fuck?!" Dick chased him furiously across the surf, barely catching up with Logan as he reached the sand and made his way to Dick's van, shoving his board inside. Dick sighed in resignation and climbed behind the wheel. They were almost back to the beach house before Logan spoke again.

"Why? What's she doing here?"

"Yeah, I don't really know. She came for the reunion, I guess, and then ended up solving Carrie's murder." Dick stopped abruptly, suddenly uncomfortable.

Logan frowned. Carrie Bishop, aka rock star Bonnie DeVille, had been more Dick's friend than his, part of a crowd that Dick ran around with with when Logan wasn't available. Which lately was most of the time. Logan had heard about the murder, of course, even aboard ship. And about the involvement of that turd, Sean Friedrich, and the later death of the hapless Gia Goodman.

But he hadn't heard anything about Veronica.

Of course, he'd paid attention only to the basic facts of the case. Logan Echolls had long ago lost his taste for sensational murders, especially those that involved celebrities.

"But why's she still here? That was months ago. And what the hell did it have to do with her anyway?"

"I dunno." Dick shrugged. "She showed up at the reunion with that guy from Hearst. Pez or something? And then she just never left."

"Piz?" What the hell? Veronica was still with _Piz_ after all these years? It seemed so unlikely. And then he wondered why the fuck he even cared. He and Veronica...that was years ago. They'd been kids, for fuck's sake.

But Logan couldn't seem to control the churning in his stomach or his rapidly-beating heart.

He clapped his friend on the shoulder. "Never mind, Dick. Thanks for letting me know."

XXXXXXXXXX

The last thing Logan expected was to run into Veronica Mars at _Amy's Ice Cream Shop_. And apparently, it was the last thing Veronica expected, too.

When she caught sight of him, her eyes widened, her jaw went slack, and the top two scoops of the triple-decker Chunky Monkey cone she was holding sailed onto the floor.

"Logan?" Her voice sounded tentative, as if she wasn't quite sure it was really him at all.

He felt his mouth move into a smirk, and his left hand began to pull at his cuff while the right lifted to rub across the back of his neck. All automatic tics that he thought he'd left behind years ago. Logan huffed in amusement at his apparent regression to his adolescent self.

"Well, I know the hair's shorter and the baby fat's gone, but I really didn't think I was unrecognizable."

Veronica flushed. "No, I'm just surprised to see you, that's all. I heard you spent most of your time these days somewhere in the middle of the ocean."

Logan worked to keep his face from reflecting his astonishment that Veronica had any idea how he'd been living his life. His smirk morphed into a small but genuine smile.

"I'm on leave," he explained simply, then nodded toward her hand. "Hey, maybe we should deal with your ice cream."

Veronica glanced down. "Shit!" she said.

That brought a grin from Logan and soon they were both ineffectually mopping the floor with piles of paper napkins, with very spotty results.

"Let me get you a replacement," Logan said, finally making his way to the counter.

He still felt a little awkward, but as he handed Veronica a fresh cone, her face lit up with a genuine smile. Knowing Veronica, though, it might have just been the ice cream.

Encouraged, Logan was about to suggest they sit at the outdoor tables and chat while they finished their cones, when Veronica's expression shifted suddenly from delighted to wary.

"Thanks, Logan. I guess I'll see you around," she added, giving him a quick wave as she moved off down the street.

Logan sighed. It was obviously the Chunky Monkey and not her first glimpse of Logan Echolls in almost a decade that had brought that smile to her face. He shook his head wryly as he wrapped his tongue around his creamy Double Chocolate Espresso. _What the hell had he expected?_

XXXXXXXXXX

Every day, it was becoming clearer to Logan that Dick thought it was his mission in life to get him laid. No amount of arguing that he could find his own damn women could convince Dick to back off from the party invitations, the attempted double-date setups, or, worst of all, the "accidental" meetings.

Like today. They'd been surfing for only a short time when two bikini-clad women appeared on the beach and waved to Dick.

"I wonder what the fuck they're doing here," Dick said, an utterance that was wholly unconvincing.

Logan sighed. "You need better line delivery, Dick. A little more surprise in your tone. Maybe widen your eyes a bit."

Dick didn't even bother trying to deny it. "Come on, Logan. They're fuckin' hot! Better than your right hand," he added, leering, as Logan rolled his eyes.

When they got to the beach, it was obvious that they were done surfing for the day, and Logan tried to be polite to "his" girl. She was better than Dick's usual choice of companion, sounded like she might even be able to spell her own name. Candy? Mandy? Oh, god, it wasn't _Brandy,_ was it?

But she was tall instead of petite, her hair was red, not blonde, and Logan couldn't believe how fucked he was by one accidental meeting at an ice cream shop. He knew it was stupid, they'd had a three-sentence conversation after a decade of silence, and besides, she had a boyfriend. But she was Veronica, by some miracle she was back in Neptune, and he couldn't seem to get her off his mind. And he knew a casual hookup with one of Dick's "friends" just wasn't going to cut it.

So at first he thought he must have conjured her up. Wishful thinking. Because the last thing Logan expected at that moment was to see Veronica Mars strolling along the edge of the surf, throwing a rubber ball to... _Backup_?

He shook his head. It couldn't possibly be the same dog. From the enthusiastic yips, he figured this one had to be a puppy.

Logan was off the blanket and jogging toward her before he even knew he was moving. It was totally kinetic, because if for one second he'd actually wrapped his brain around the notion of approaching Veronica, he might have reconsidered. But even Dick's cry of, "Where the fuck you goin', Logan?" didn't halt his progress across the sand.

Veronica's hand rose to her brow as she caught his movement towards her, then she lowered it and her whole body seemed to still. _Had she recognized him, too?_

It was only when he reached her side that he realized he couldn't think of a single thing to say to her. He, Logan Echolls, the man who'd practically reinvented the concept of the pickup line, was struck dumb in the presence of his sometime teenage sweetheart. His mind raced as he searched for an opening remark that was neither hackneyed nor lame, but when Veronica smiled at him, the synapses in his brain stopped pinging. His self-esteem was rescued when she spoke first.

"You're still here," she said.

Logan's brow wrinkled. "Some reason why I shouldn't be?"

Veronica shrugged. "I thought, that is, I heard, that you lived in San Diego when you weren't...um...floating around on the ocean."

Logan chuckled. "I do have a condo in San Diego, but Dick and I get together to surf when I'm on leave. And I don't so much float on the ocean as fly over it."

Veronica nodded. "Yeah, I also heard you were a pilot."

"That's 'naval aviator', if you please, ma'am. And who have you been talking to about me?" He couldn't resist teasing her a little.

For just a second, she looked uncomfortable, her eyes shifting slightly away from him. But she was Veronica Mars, so recovery was nearly instantaneous.

"I never give up my sources," she said slyly, "but you're pretty famous around here. Native son becomes real American hero," she grinned at him, "and all that shit."

Logan smirked. "Native son, huh? I moved here when I was twelve. And this has gotta be the first time that the good people of Neptune have ever wanted to claim me as their own."

The both laughed.

"So, you and Dick? You're still friends?" They both glanced across the sand to where Dick was sitting, still flanked by the two women.

Logan shrugged. "Yeah. We've been through a lot together over the years so, yeah, we're friends. Although, sometimes being friends with Dick is a challenge," he added, the corner of his lip curling up in amusement.

"So who's this little guy?" Logan asked, changing the subject abruptly. He dropped to his knees to drag his fingers under the chin of the pup who'd been happily running circles around them as they stood there just a couple of feet from the water's edge.

" _She,"_ Veronica emphasized the gender-specific pronoun, "is Deputy."

"Deputy?" Logan grinned, looking up. "As in Deputy... _Dawg_?"

Veronica rolled her eyes. "No _Dawg._ Just Deputy. We lost Backup last year." Veronica's eyes misted over and Logan remembered just how fond she'd been of that dog. "So after my dad's accident, I decided maybe it was time..."

Her voice trailed off as Logan interrupted her.

"Accident? What happened to your dad, Veronica? Is that why you moved back?" Logan rose to his feet as he peppered her with questions.

"You really don't know?"

"Should I? I was in the middle of that ocean, remember." He had a sudden thought. "It didn't have anything to do with the murder investigation, did it? Dick told me you got involved in that."

But Veronica was already shaking her head. "It's kind of a long story." She glanced back at Dick and his companions, then down at the pup, still circling them frantically. "Got time for a walk?"

Logan nodded, and as they set off down the beach, Veronica began to tell him about Keith's car accident and recovery, and about filling in for her dad at Mars Investigations. About her decision to stay in Neptune and to chuck lawyering. Logan's head spun as with each new piece of information it became increasingly clear that Veronica's recent life choices meant that she was permanently back in his orbit.

It wasn't until later that day, as he thought back on their conversation, that Logan realized that she hadn't once mentioned Piz. And he hadn't asked.

XXXXXXXXXX

Logan argued with himself for two days before he finally gave in to the impulse to pay a visit to Mars Investigations. Veronica had told him that Keith had been been forced to move the MI office from its old location, priced out by the escalating rents that had accompanied the gentrification of the area. Absurd as he knew it was, Logan was still a bit mournful that it wouldn't be the old office he was approaching, the one with the long outer hallway that had been the scene of several memorable adolescent make-out sessions with Veronica. He sighed. You really _couldn't_ go home again.

The building that housed the new MI offices had that slightly seedy look of a property that remained in stasis while its owner waited for it to catch the eye of some enterprising developer. It wasn't exactly rundown, but no one was throwing a lot of money around to prettify it, either. The office itself was on the second floor and it was only as he reached the door that Logan realized he had no reasonable excuse for being there.

He'd stood there for several seconds, doorknob in hand, when the decision on whether or not to actually turn it was taken out of his hands. The door was yanked open abruptly and he came face to face with someone he hadn't seen since his days at Hearst College.

" _Logan Echolls?_ " Her jaw dropped in surprise when she saw him.

"Hi, Mac." His tone was a bit uncertain as he suddenly remembered Veronica mentioning that Mac Mackenzie had come to work for her.

Mac recovered first, opening the door completely and ushering him into the outer office.

"I heard that you were around, but, well, can we _do_ something for you? I mean, are you in need of our services?" Logan wanted to laugh at the baffled expression on her face.

"Not right now," he smiled, striving for his customary urbanity, "although you never know when it might be handy to have a PI on speed-dial. But today I just came by to see if the boss was around."

"She is." Veronica's voice drifted over from the doorway of her small private office, a glass-fronted room that he could see was only large enough to hold a desk and a couple of swivel chairs. She stood there smiling at him, and Logan decided that was a good sign. At least she wasn't pissed that he'd dropped by unannounced.

"Hey, Veronica, I wondered if you wanted to maybe grab some lunch." The words bypassed his brain and tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop them.

Veronica blinked in surprise and then glanced at the large old-fashioned clock that adorned the wall over Mac's desk.

"It's only eleven o'clock, Logan. You don't think it's a little _early_ for lunch?"

Logan could feel himself flushing. It had been a long time since he'd felt so uncool. But before he could open his mouth to backpedal, to find a more credible reason for his visit, Veronica was grabbing a large, studded, back leather handbag from somewhere behind her (a handbag that seemed more than a little familiar to him), and shutting her office door.

"On the other hand," she continued as if he didn't look like seven kinds of an idiot, "I've been here since seven and I'm feeling a little peckish."

"When aren't you?" Logan asked, and just like that they were back on a footing that felt achingly familiar.

Veronica's treated him to one of her patented stares. "Don't press your luck, buddy," she said, but her eyes were glinting with amusement as she led him down the stairs and out into the street.

Her brows rose when he ushered her into the midnight blue Beemer convertible that was waiting curbside.

"A definite improvement over your old rides," she said, running her hands admiringly over the soft leather seats. He felt ridiculously pleased that she approved of his choice of vehicle.

Logan didn't know how much time Veronica would allow herself for lunch, and he didn't want to push his luck (indeed, she'd already warned him not to) so he took her to a burger joint that he and Dick often visited after surfing, a place where he knew they could either get a quick lunch - or linger. And besides, a burger had always been a safe bet with Veronica in the past.

Unless she'd changed, of course. Drastically.

But she hadn't. At least not when it came to food, apparently.

"It's like you know me or something," she smiled as they settled themselves into the old-fashioned booth and glanced through the menu offerings.

Logan shrugged. "Some things never change, I guess." He paused, took the plunge. "But why don't you fill me in on everything that has."

They lingered well past the time it took Veronica to down a double cheeseburger, fries, a chocolate shake and a brownie sundae. (Logan wondered idly, as he often had in the past, how it was that the slender Veronica didn't weigh 200 pounds.)

Veronica talked while she ate, but even so he didn't get to hear the whole story. There wasn't nearly enough time to revisit every path that Veronica's life had taken since they'd last seen each other. She talked a bit about Stanford, and a little more about Columbia Law, but it was mostly about courses and professors and the astronomically high cost of living in New York City. And none of it touched even remotely on Veronica's personal life. Piz wasn't mentioned...and neither was any other guy.

Logan was beginning to wonder if he'd hear anything about her personal life when Veronica suddenly noted the time and began to rifle through her handbag as she slid out of the booth.

"Shit! I've gotta go," she said, pulling out her wallet. "I have an appointment in fifteen minutes."

"Not a chance," Logan said, catching her wrist. "I invited you so it's my treat."

Veronica nodded. "Okay," she agreed, smiling, "but it hardly seems fair you should have to pay when I spent the whole time talking your ear off about school and never got to hear anything at all about how you ended up as Neptune's local hero."

Logan smirked. "It's entirely possible that I might be persuaded to spring for more burgers at a later date. Or even a pizza. Then I could fill you in on all my important exploits."

"Yeah?" she said, cocking an eye at him expectantly. "Now you do understand I'm only interested in the official exploits here, Logan, not the ones you got up to after hours with your flyboy buddies."

Logan grinned around the straw as he slurped up the last of his drink. "My _flyboy buddies_? _After hours?_ Why, Veronica, I think you must have me confused with someone else. Neptune's local hero is all business."

Veronica laughed. "Right."

Logan dropped a few bills onto the table and they hurried out to his car. As they drove back to Mars Investigations, he searched desperately but unsuccessfully for the magic words that would ensure he'd get to spend more time with her.

It wasn't until he'd pulled up to the curb and she was exiting the car that Veronica finally spoke.

"So why don't we continue this conversation on Thursday, then?" Her words were so matter-of-fact that they might have spent the entire drive back deliberating the details of their next meeting instead of riding side by side in near silence.

"And, Logan, eleven's a little early for lunch. Come around noon, okay?" Veronica added in the same breezy tone.

His mouth slackened and he blinked in surprise as she crossed the sidewalk and disappeared into the building without waiting for a reply.

A smile tugged at his lips as Logan suddenly understood that he had another lunch date with Veronica. On Thursday. At noon.

 _Not a date,_ he reminded himself sternly. _Just more...catching up...with an old friend._

But as he drove back to Dick's house, his heart was hammering, and his mouth was dry, and Logan felt a shiver of anticipation and excitement that he hadn't experienced in a long, long time.

Not for years.

XXXXXXXXXX

The last thing that Logan had expected from his impulsive invitation was that it would become a regular thing, but that's exactly what happened. That first day set the pattern, and he found himself swinging by MI nearly every day to take Veronica to lunch

Mac always looked up with a sly grin when he opened the office door, and then later, as they were leaving, reminded Veronica not to forget about some appointment or other.

Sometimes they went for burgers, but other times they ended up at _Cho's Pizza_ or the sandwich shop. On one memorable occasion, he took her to the new Japanese restaurant on the outskirts of town, but Veronica didn't often have the time for such lengthy excursions. Occasionally he let her pay, because he knew she'd be annoyed otherwise, and there'd be no more lunches.

Over the course of several of those meals, Veronica finally heard the story of how he'd come to join the Navy. Although not, of course, the whole story. He'd never told anyone the whole story, never disclosed to another soul how far he'd traveled in his downward spiral before he'd finally grasped that either he turned his life around or accepted that he'd soon be dead. (And he'd been _damned_ if he'd give Aaron Echolls the satisfaction of reaching out from his grave to mock his son's pathetic excuse for a life.)

It mightn't have been the Navy; it could just as easily have been something else. Anything, that is, that gave him a purpose and a sense of belonging. But he soon found that the Navy suited him, and it hadn't hurt at all that flying the damn planes had an unmistakable allure that appealed to the last little bit of recklessness left in what had become his otherwise ordered life.

But Veronica heard only the redacted version, and he could see by her occasional puzzled glance that she knew there was a lot he wasn't telling her.

 _Maybe someday, Veronica_. _If it really becomes your business to know. But we'd have to be much, much closer..._

Logan cut that thought off at the knees as soon as it arrived in his head. This time with Veronica, the lunches, he knew they'd have to come to an end soon. Hell, his damn leave was just about up, and he'd soon have to report for duty in San Diego. And then what? He could hardly drive up from the base to take Veronica to lunch every day, and he wasn't sure she'd agree to see him on weekends when he _was_ available.

Weekends were probably the time she reserved for her boyfriend, the one she never talked about. And Logan didn't ask, because if he never heard the name "Piz" he could continue to pretend that the guy didn't exist.

Dick had been on his case since he'd first figured out why Logan kept disappearing for hours in the middle of the day. And his reaction had been predictable.

"What the fuck are you _doin_ ', dude? I _told_ you about that Pez guy! You know she's just gonna rip your heart out and tear it to shreds. Why you wanna put yourself through that again?"

Logan knew Dick was just trying to watch out for him but eventually he'd had enough.

"Just fucking _leave_ it, Dick! I'm not a kid anymore. I can figure out my own life. And my leave is almost up anyway."

Dick's sigh was long-suffering, but he finally let it go. And at least he'd stopped trying to hook Logan up.

It was the Friday of the last week of his leave and Logan knew he'd have to explain to Veronica that this would be their last lunch. He should have done it sooner, but he'd been putting it off for fear that she'd fail to suggest other times when they could get together. That she'd just accept that it was over. Whatever it was.

Part of him understood it was probably hopeless. She had somebody...was already with somebody else ...and if she'd viewed Logan's company as anything other than old friends meeting over a quick meal she surely would have let him know by now. But still, he couldn't get rid of the feeling that there was a reason Veronica had come back into his life so suddenly, and he was determined to do everything he could not to break the connection.

And, dammit! There were some days he was sure she was just as happy to have found him again, too. Days when she smiled at him fondly, when her eyes glowed with what looked to him like real affection. When she seemed to lean toward him like she wanted to physically close the distance between them.

And then his heart would beat like a triphammer, and his palms would become sweaty. His eyes would drop to trace the shape of her lips. Waiting. Just waiting.

But she never did close that distance. Logan knew he'd wait forever if he thought there was a chance of it happening.

On this day, the one that Logan knew had to be the _last_ day, they'd decided to lunch at a small cafe that was within walking distance of her office. Enjoying the sunshine, they sat at one of the tiny tables that spilled onto the wide sidewalk outside the restaurant. As they studied the menus, placed their orders, and ate their lunch, Logan kept up the steady stream of conversation that always flowed so easily between them, but for once he wasn't giving Veronica his full attention. In the back of his mind, he continued to wrestle with how to propose a next step in their renewed friendship.

They were lingering over coffee, and Logan had just about decided to ask Veronica as directly as possible if there was any chance they could see each other on weekends, when he heard a vaguely familiar voice behind hm.

"So this is what you changed your life for? _This_ is the reason you gave it all up?" The voice was taut, and laced with disappointment.

Veronica looked up in dismay. Logan turned his head, and then rose to his feet, because while the hair was shorter, and the close-trimmed beard was new, this was certainly Wallace Fennel.

"Hey, Wallace, how are you, man?" Logan's hand extended toward the newcomer. But Wallace ignored him completely, his attention fixed solely on Veronica.

Logan dropped his hand and retook his seat, glancing over at Veronica and trying to make sense of Fennel's words. _This is the reason you gave it all up?_ Surely Wallace didn't think Veronica had stayed in Neptune because of _him,_ because of _Logan_. She'd already moved from New York, already been home for _months_ by the time Logan arrived stateside. It made no fucking _sense_.

And besides, she had a boyfriend.

Veronica shook her head, started to protest, but Logan thought she might as well have saved her breath. Because Fennel talked right over whatever it was she'd been trying to say.

"Piz is a friend of mine, Veronica. I wouldn't have expected this from you."

O

And there it was. The dreaded name. For weeks, he'd put a lot of effort into pretending the guy didn't exist while he tried to move in on his girl.

Wallace finally flicked a glance in Logan's direction, one that was filled with contempt, and a shameful discomfort crept over Logan. What the hell did he think he'd been doing, essentially low-key stalking a woman who he'd been told more than once was with someone else? A woman who had never indicated she wanted anything more from him than friendship. Even as a kid, Logan had never stooped that low.

He really _was_ a piece of shit.

Logan stood abruptly and pulled several bills from his wallet, carefully placing them on the table. Veronica looked up at him, surprise sketched in every line of her face.

"It's been great being able to have these lunches with you, Veronica, but I'm afraid this," he paused, swallowed hard, "is going to have to be the last one. I never did get the chance to tell you but my leave is up this weekend and I have to get back to San Diego."

Veronica finally found her voice. "No, Logan...please wait..." Her hand fluttered out, as if to physically restrain him.

But like Fennel before him, he talked right over her.

"I've really enjoyed seeing you again. Maybe..." He paused. _Maybe what?_ He choked up then, and knew it was beyond him to continue.

Logan smiled at Veronica, or at least he hoped it was a smile. It might easily have been a grimace. He nodded to a puzzled-looking Wallace Fennel and twisted his way clear of the tiny tables and out onto the sidewalk.

It took him only a few minutes to find his car and drive back to the beach house. Dick was home, but when he saw the expression on Logan's face as he hurriedly packed his belongings into his seabag, Dick very wisely said nothing at all.

In less than an hour from the time he'd left Veronica sitting at that table in the cafe he was twisting the key in the lock of his condo in San Diego and tossing his seabag onto the floor. Then he was sitting in a chair in a shadowy corner of his bedroom, head in his hands, wondering how the hell he'd managed to fuck himself up all over again.

XXXXXXXXXX

It was a relief for Logan to get back to work the following week, a relief to throw himself into the familiar routine, the one that validated exactly who Logan Echolls had become. And that wasn't some lovesick idiot pining over his teenage crush, but a seasoned Naval aviator with dozens of missions under his belt.

It was only at odd times, when he was caught unawares by a glimpse of shiny blonde hair or sea blue eyes, that his breath hitched for the tiniest moment and he remembered all over again just exactly what - _who_ \- he was missing.

Or at night, when he lay in bed, his body aching with desire for the one person he knew he could never have.

Logan rarely got personal calls, so when he felt his phone buzz in his pocket a couple of weeks later while he was talking to his CO, he wrote it off as a robo-call. It was evening by the time he remembered to check, and saw that the call had been from Veronica.

He was staring at the phone, his mind a blank, when it rang again, startling him. He didn't even have to look to know who was on the line.

"Hello?" He hoped his voice didn't sound as uncertain as he felt.

"What happened to the quotes of the day? I used to look forward to those." The words were teasing but there was an undertone he couldn't identify.

"I finally outgrew being a pompous jackass. Now I'm just a plain jackass." He couldn't keep the smile out of his voice.

"Well, would the plain jackass consider doing a favor for...an old friend?"

"Sure," he said immediately.

Veronica laughed. "Logan, I haven't even said what it is yet. Maybe it's something you won't want to do."

 _As if there's anything you could ask of me that I wouldn't do, Veronica. Swim the English Channel? Where are my swim trunks? Write a hundred sonnets? Sharpen up the pencils. Love you forever? Got that covered_.

"I'm sure you wouldn't ask anything of me that I wouldn't be happy to do, Veronica. What is it exactly?"

Her voice, when she answered, had a softness to it that hadn't been there before. "Thanks, Logan."

Veronica cleared her throat in a display of apparent nervousness that was completely uncharacteristic. But when she spoke her voice was breezy.

"What I need," she said, "is an escort."

"Uh, don't they have agencies for that kind of thing?" he teased.

"Yeah, not _that_ kind of escort, Logan. You know you really _are_ an asshole."

He laughed. "So what happened to your regular escort, then?"

"My... _regular_ escort?" She sounded puzzled.

"Yeah, you know. Piznarski." Did he really have to spell it out for her?

There was a long pause.

"How did you...?" She stopped, started again. "Piz and I aren't together, Logan."

Logan's mind began to work furiously. _Not together? But Dick...and...and...Wallace? Surely Wallace would know a thing like that._

Logan spoke carefully. "Dick said he saw you two together at the reunion, Veronica. I know you don't have much use for Dick, but he usually doesn't have enough imagination to lie."

"Yeah," she allowed, "He did come to the reunion with me. But then I decided to stay in Neptune and Piz...went back to New York. And then later, we broke up."

"How much later?" He couldn't seem to stop himself from interrogating her.

This time there was an even longer pause, and for an awful moment Logan thought that Veronica might have ended the call.

"Can the explanations maybe wait until I see you?" she said finally.

Logan's relief was palpable. Veronica was still on the line. "Of course. So...what exactly am I escorting you to?"

"Very boring Chamber of Commerce thingy." Her voice lost its uncertain edge, reverted to its earlier light tone. "I normally hate this kind of shit but when you're in business, you know, needs must."

Logan thought Veronica must feel really pressed to put herself through a business dinner. But if she needed him...hell, he'd take any excuse to see her. And... _no Piz._

"So, when is this gala event?"

"It's this Saturday. And, um...it's formal dress, Logan. I assume you have a tux somewhere in the back of your closet?"

"Yeah, I do. But ordinarily - Naval officer, active duty - I'd usually just wear my dinner dress blues. But if you want civvies..."

It might have been his imagination, but he could have sworn there was an audible swallow on the other end of the line.

"Yeah, of course, wear your uniform. Let the important people of Neptune see where their tax dollars go."

"Hey! I'll have you know I had to personally shell out for every fucking uniform I own!"

"And I'm sure it took _minutes_ for your bank account to recover," Veronica shot back immediately.

He couldn't see the smirk on her face, but he could hear it in her voice.

She went on to say he could be pick her up at six and she'd text him her address.

"You aren't living with your dad?" He didn't know why he was so surprised. Veronica was a grown woman. But they'd never really discussed her current living arrangements.

"Nope. At first, after the accident, yeah, I was. But I finally got my own place a couple of months ago. It's better this way."

He certainly seconded _that_ opinion.

XXXXXXXXXX

A case of nerves was the very last thing Logan expected as he drove to Veronica's the following Saturday. Not only had he been dating since the age of thirteen, but this was hardly his first go-round with Veronica Mars. But the night felt heavy with expectations, with renewed hope and second chances. So he supposed it was inevitable that he found himself pulling at his cuffs and rubbing the back of his neck. He knew he'd probably be tugging at his hair it weren't cut military short.

He was glad he'd decided to wear the dress blues. Even if they weren't his everyday khakis, the feel of the uniform soothed him, helped him remember who he'd become. Who Logan Echolls was now.

Veronica lived near the downtown area, on one side of a duplex that had been converted from an old Victorian single-family home. It wasn't near the beach, and it didn't have much of a yard for a dog, but then he'd already learned that although it was Veronica who'd found her at the shelter, Deputy was her father's dog and usually stayed with Keith.

When she answered the door, Logan's mind was immediately thrown back a decade. Her dress was black lace and strapless, although this one didn't stop mid-calf, but instead cascaded all the way to the floor. And her hair, that shining blonde mass that Logan had wanted to touch so many times over the past few weeks, was pulled back not in a ponytail, but in a low bun that rested on the nape of her neck. A chignon, he thought it was called.

But he was still reminded of Alterna-Prom, a night for which his only really clear memory was of Veronica looking very much as she did at that moment. Logan sighed inwardly. It had been a _long_ time ago.

"You look beautiful, Veronica." He hadn't meant for them to be the first words out of his mouth, but it was clear that his brain was on extended leave, and the rest of him was on auto-pilot. But Veronica seemed pleased enough as she returned the compliment.

"You're not looking so bad yourself, there, Lieutenant," she said. "I think you should try to wear that getup more often."

They grinned at each other pointlessly for a moment before she locked the door and Logan ushered her out to his car. He'd put the top up in deference to the occasion and Veronica sighed in disappointment.

"It would be nice to arrive without looking like I've been through a wind tunnel, I suppose," she whined.

"I'll put the top down on the way back," he promised.

The event was being held at the Neptune Grand, still the most elegant hotel in town. Another callback to a night he didn't know whether he should be pissed he couldn't remember...or happy that he was able to forget.

Logan and Veronica looked at each other ruefully as they entered the hotel through the familiar double doors, and he knew from her next words that they were on the same wavelength.

"I'm having a little _deja vu_ here. But we're going to the ballroom, not the penthouse, so..." Veronica's voice trailed off and she shrugged, knowing he understood.

As they entered the ballroom, Logan could have sworn that for a fraction of a second all conversation ceased. But then the hum of voices buzzed in his ear again and he knew it must have been only his imagination.

Within seconds, an older man appeared at Veronica's side.

"Ms. Mars! So glad you were able to make it after all. Your seats are right over here. And this is...?" The man regarded Logan with a quizzical smile.

"Mr. Grayson, meet Lieutenant Logan Echolls, US Navy. Logan, Mr. Grayson is president of Neptune's Chamber of Commerce." Veronica made the introductions with a smile.

Hands were shaken and a speculative gleam lit Grayson's eye. "Echolls? You aren't by any chance..."

 _Oh, no. Here it comes. Christ! Would he never stop being known as the son of that murdering bastard?_

Logan interrupted before the man could get his question out. "What would you like to drink, Veronica?"

Veronica gave him her drink order and a sympathetic look. When he returned from the bar, he found her at a table near the very front of the room. As he took his seat, Veronica reached over and covered his hand with her own.

"He only wanted to know if you were the same guy who flew jets into Afghanistan," she said quietly.

Logan flushed. "Oh. I thought he was going to ask about..." He suddenly felt ridiculous.

"I know," she said, squeezing his hand. "I understand."

It wasn't until after they'd eaten dinner that Logan realized that Veronica only showed up for this shindig because she was the guest of honor. The local Chamber had decided to recognize her for her efforts in solving the Carrie Bishop case.

Not that she couldn't talk a blue streak if the need arose, but Veronica wasn't really one for making speeches. So when she was introduced, she smiled, uttered a simple "Thank you," paid appropriate tribute to her father's training, and sat down quickly to appreciative applause.

Logan's eyes narrowed as she took her seat. "You couldn't have told me about this? And where's your dad? I'm surprised he wouldn't want to be here."

Veronica shrugged. "Sorry. I just didn't know how to say it. Somehow 'They're giving me a plaque for solving a murder' sounded a little stupid. And Dad, he _did_ want to be here, but he's just not up to it yet. But he's getting there, thank god," she finished under her breath.

Logan shook his head. He knew Veronica enjoyed the accolades, the recognition that she was _good_ at her chosen profession, but he also knew he wouldn't find that plaque hanging on her office wall anytime soon.

He smiled at her softly, leaned in to whisper quietly. "I'm proud of you, Veronica. I've known for a long time what an extraordinary person you are. Glad to see the rest of the world has finally caught on."

Veronica's face lit up and she seemed about to respond, but others came up then to congratulate her and there was no chance for further conversation. Logan had been limiting his alcohol intake, but he thought this might be a good opportunity to get a second drink. And let Veronica enjoy her moment in the sun without worrying about entertaining him.

A few minutes later, he was seated at the bar in the far corner of the room, sipping on a very excellent Scotch (this was, after all, the Neptune Grand), when he heard a familiar voice.

"If it isn't Mr. Echolls. Or...let me correct myself... _Lieutenant_ Echolls. But either way, probably the last person I'd have expected to see here tonight."

The smooth baritone was both memorable and immediately recognizable, and Logan swung around on the stool with an expectant smile.

He held out his hand in greeting. "Nice to see you, Cliff."

Cliff McCormack nodded as he shook Logan's hand. "Likewise. And an extra little fillip of delight that this meeting is _not_ because you're in need of my professional services."

Logan grinned. "Yeah, I think I've got that covered with JAG Corps. At least for now."

"And it's to be hoped you won't ever have need to call upon _their_ services, either."

"Fervently hoped," Logan agreed, swallowing another sip of his Scotch. "I'm not planning on it."

Cliff raised his own glass. In silent agreement, Logan supposed.

"So, can I assume you're here with Veronica? Not that I've seen much of her myself but I didn't realize the two of you had kept in touch."

Logan huffed, polishing off the last of his Scotch. He thought about ordering another, but then remembered he was driving and requested a glass of water instead.

"We hadn't. Not since she left for Stanford nine years ago."

Logan grabbed his water from the bartender and gulped down half of it in one swallow while Cliff waited for him to continue.

"But all those years," his smile was wry, "they don't seem to have made any difference. She's here, I'm here - I ran into her in the ice cream store, of all places. We've been spending a little bit of time together and," he sighed softly, " _fuck_ , that's all it took."

Cliff nodded, understanding. "Yes, I always assumed you felt that way about her."

"Yeah, she's the goddamn love of my life, Cliff." _How could a line be so cheesy, and at the same time, so true?_ "The one that got away."

With a small shake of his head, Logan wondered at this sudden impulse to bare his soul to a man he hadn't seen in a decade - and hardly knew even then. He couldn't blame the alcohol; he was only two drinks in.

But maybe his choice of confidant was irrelevant. Maybe he just needed to tell _someone_.

Logan finished his water, noting when Cliff's glance shifted suddenly to a spot just behind his head.

"Veronica!" Cliff rose and offered his hand. "Congratulations. I'll expect to see that plaque on your wall the next time I drop by the office."

Logan shifted in his seat as he heard her soft reply. "Thanks, Cliff, but I'm pretty sure it's destined for some drawer I hardly ever open."

Logan turned slowly and glanced warily at Veronica out of the corner of his eye. _Had she heard his heartfelt confession?_ Her expression gave nothing away.

"Looking for your date, were you?" Cliff asked then, and Logan understood the man was trying to give him time to recover his composure.

"I was," Veronica smiled at Cliff, but her shoulders were stiff, and the ease which had characterized their earlier conversation was gone.

"Are you ready to go, Logan, or do you need some time to let that last drink clear your system?"

Veronica addressed him without meeting his gaze.

Logan's stomach dropped. _Shit, shit, shit!_ She'd heard him and was trying to figure out how to end the evening without embarrassing them both.

He'd really fucked up.

"The last one was water, Veronica, so I think I'm good. You don't want to stay for the dancing?"

She shook her head, and he swallowed his disappointment that he wouldn't get to hold her in his arms after all.

Cliff waved them off with a quiet "Nothing ventured..." tossed in Logan's direction.

XXXXXXXXXX

When they emerged from the Grand, the night air was chillier that he'd expected, but Veronica held him to his promise to put the top down on the Beemer. She lobbed the plaque into the back seat, then pulled the pins out of her hair until it swung free across her shoulders. Logan offered her his uniform jacket but Veronica claimed she wasn't cold, even in her strapless dress.

They were nearly silent as he drove back to Veronica's place, and Logan became more and more convinced that he'd screwed up royally. Even a friendship was going to be impossible now that she knew how he felt about her. By the time they reached her apartment, he was so tense that all he could think about as he walked her to her door was how stupid he felt and how much she must want this night to end.

They were standing so close while she opened the door that Logan could smell the lemon scent of her shampoo and observe her slight shiver as his hot breath ruffled the short hairs on the back of her neck. He wanted so badly to touch her that he had to clench his fists to keep from reaching out and drawing a finger down and across the soft curve of her cheek.

He knew he had to get out of there.

Veronica had no more than opened the door and turned to thank him for escorting her than he was backing away from her, his mind focused on escaping with as much dignity as possible.

"Your welcome, Veronica. Congratulations. I should get going. It's a long drive."

Logan knew he was babbling and no doubt Veronica thought him even more of an idiot than she had five seconds before but she said very slowly, " _Okaaaay_ , I guess if you need to leave..."

Maybe later he'd take the time to wonder about the odd expression in Veronica's face, but right at that moment all he could think about was reaching the emotional safety offered by the shadowed corner of his bedroom.

He all but raced down the walk and his hand was already on the car door when he noticed something in the back seat glinting in the moonlight.

Shit! She'd forgotten her award. He supposed he could mail it to her in the morning, but he didn't think he could stomach having anything around, even just overnight, that would remind him of how much of a fool he'd been.

He fished out the plaque, gritted his teeth, and made the return trip up the walkway to Veronica's apartment.

A sliver of light shone under her door, so he was a little surprised that it took her so long to answer his knock. When she finally threw open the door, he could see that she was still dressed in her finery, still wearing the black lace dress and the high heels. But her eyes looked glassy, as though she'd been -

"Veronica! What's wrong? Has something happened? Is it your dad?"

She looked at him blankly. "What are you doing here, Logan? I thought you were in a big hurry to get back to San Diego."

"I...you left your award in the back seat. I figured you'd want it." He knew he sounded like a complete ass.

"Fine! You brought it back. Thanks. You can leave now."

Logan stared at her, wondering why the hell she looked so angry.

"Veronica, what's wrong? You seem upset. Or pissed. What's going on?"

As he spoke, Logan unconsciously moved across the threshold towards her, until he was just barely inside her apartment. Her answer was brusque.

"Why should anything be wrong? Everything in my life is perfect. I had a lovely time tonight, Logan. Thanks."

It was a clear dismissal, and he turned around to leave once again. But then she stopped him with her voice.

"Did you mean it, Logan? Any of it?" He could hear her uncertainty.

He turned back, facing her warily. _"It?"_

Veronica sighed. "What you said to Cliff. That I was... _the love of your life_." She said it all in a rush, as though she was sorry she'd brought it up.

For just a moment, Logan considered going with a bald-faced lie, but really, what the fuck would be the point?

"Of course I meant it, Veronica. How could you think anything else?"

"How could I think...?" Veronica's voice rose as her anger returned. "Two minutes ago you ran out of here like your pants were on fire. How could I _not_ think that you were desperate to get away from me?"

Logan shook his head, feeling utterly humiliated. "I left because I knew I'd screwed up! That you didn't want that from me. I was just... _goddammit!_ I don't know! Getting out of your hair? Saving myself some embarrassment? Probably _both_?"

Veronica gaped at him.

"What the hell gave you the idea that I didn't want you to stay? I mean, I had lunch with you practically every day for almost a month, you jackass!"

"Yeah," his own voice was beginning to rise as he struggled to understand exactly why she was so angry. He reached behind him and shut the apartment door with a bang. "But it was only ever lunch! You never wanted, never suggested..." He stopped with a shake of his head.l

"You could have asked me out _any_ time. Yeah, I know it's the twenty-first century, but I'd already been the one to keep suggesting we meet for lunch. So then, why didn't you?"

"Because you had a boyfriend!" He interrupted in frustration, but then he remembered. "Or at least...I thought you did," he finished, his voice trailing off.

Veronica sighed, shaking her head.

"I didn't even realize you knew about Piz or I would have explained a long time ago. I broke up with him the day after you and I had lunch that first time. I knew I wasn't being fair to him."

Now it was Logan's turn to gape. "You ended a ten-year relationship over a _lunch_?"

" _Ten-year...?"_ Veronica's face was a study in confusion. "What ever gave you that idea? We only started dating again last year, Logan. Wallace is the one who'd kept in touch with him all those years, not me. That's how Piz knew I was in New York."

Logan tried hard to absorb all this new information. Veronica kept on talking. Kept on explaining.

"And when I decided to stay here, and Piz went back to New York, I knew it was only a matter of time. But I was taking the coward's way out. Hoping he'd break up with me."

Her tone was rueful. "But he never did. And although I knew I should just cut the cord, there was nothing that was forcing my hand, so I kept...putting it off."

Veronica squared her shoulders then, and looked him straight in the eye, and Logan wondered what was coming next.

"Until," she said deliberately, "you came back to town. Until I saw you, and we talked, and it was like no time had passed at all. You were suddenly right there in front of me and I kept wanting to see more of you, and then I found myself wanting to touch you all the time, and I had to tell him then, had to let him know..."

But Logan wasn't interested in whatever it was Veronica had to tell the man who clearly was no longer a part of her life. He was interested only in what he wanted to happen _right here, right_ _now_ , between Veronica and himself.

She was still speaking, still explaining. Was, in fact, right in the middle of a sentence when he reached out suddenly, gathered her in, and bent down, lightly brushing his lips across hers. Her breath hitched, and she stood stock-still for just an instant. And then she wound her arms around Logan's neck and responded with her whole body.

Weeks of pent-up longing on both sides defined that kiss. When Veronica's mouth opened on a moan, Logan thrust his tongue inside and wrapped it around her own. In a matter of seconds, the kiss became frantic.

He knew she could feel how his body was responding to her when she pulled up on her toes suddenly, anchoring herself on his shoulders, and rubbed herself desperately along his hardening cock. Logan groaned, "Oh, god, Veronica, I've missed you so fucking much," only thirty seconds into the kiss and already nearly incoherent.

From there, things escalated rapidly. There were too many goddamn layers between them, Logan thought, and made it a priority to get rid of one of them immediately. Shifting the fingers that had been caressing her back, he began to tug on the zipper of Veronica's lacy gown, finally lowering it enough so that when he moved ever so slightly away from her, there was just enough room for the dress to slide down her body onto the floor. She stepped out of it and kicked it aside.

She stood there then, clad only in her lacy underthings and a pair of four-inch heels, the physical manifestation of every waking dream he'd had for nine long years. Logan didn't know where to touch first.

"Fuck, Veronica, you are the sexiest goddamn woman on the planet." He was nearly shaking with desire.

"Yeah?" her voice was husky. "I can't wait for you to show me how much you want me."

She pushed herself against him, twining an arm around his neck once again. With her other hand - the more dexterous one - she palmed his cock through the light fabric of his blue uniform pants.

"I want you inside me, Logan." Every breathy word she spoke went straight to his groin and Logan knew there was no chance he was going to last very long.

"Wait, Veronica," his voice was strangled. But she was having none of it. She began to kiss him wildly, her body pressed against his. Veronica's hand slipped between them again, but their bodies were now so close that Logan wasn't sure if she was more intent on rubbing his cock or on pressing her fingers against the wet panties that still covered her cunt. The idea that she was doing both was overwhelmingly erotic.

Logan drew in a ragged breath as he pulled himself away from her mouth. A quick snap of his fingers, and her strapless bra fell to the floor. She moaned when Logan lifted her breasts in his hands, flicking his thumbs across her hard pink nipples. As she watched his long fingers close around her breasts, her lids lowered and her breath quickened.

Logan whispered in her ear. "I really want to suck your tits, Veronica, but you're so damn short." He scanned the immediate area, looking for a way to make up for the height difference that her four-inch heels had reduced but not erased. It was the narrow table that stood behind her couch that finally caught his eye.

"Perfect," he muttered, reaching around her body and lifting Veronica under her ass. He walked the few feet to the table and set her down on it, moving to stand between her legs.

Veronica lifted her breasts as though offering herself and Logan wasted no time in accepting. His mouth closed around her left breast, sucking strongly, while he palmed her right.

Veronica groaned, and Logan was thrilled that after all these years they could still affect each other so strongly. He sucked and licked his way across to her right breast, tonguing the nipple lightly before closing his lips around it.

By now, Veronica's was grabbing ineffectually at his clothing, which was still completely intact.

"Do you like it when I suck your tits?" he asked, his voice a low growl.

"Yes," she whispered, "you know I do. But I need more. You have to take these off," she said, grabbing at his belt.

Logan gave her a lazy smile as he ever so slowly unbuckled his belt and unzipped his fly.

"What is it that you want from me, Veronica?" he teased, sticking his hand inside his pants and palming his cock through his boxers. _Damn, that felt good!_ He could only imagine how fantastic it was going to feel to be inside Veronica again.

Veronica couldn't take her eyes off his hand as he continued to slowly stroke himself.

"You know what I want, Logan." She could barely get the words out. He didn't think he could remember ever seeing her quite so turned on.

"Yeah, I'm not sure I do. Why don't you tell me," he suggested. By now, he'd grabbed himself firmly, still stroking, only a thin layer of cotton between his hand and his cock.

"I want that," she said huskily, the words torn from her throat. "I want your cock inside me. I want you to fuck me."

Logan nearly came in his pants. She'd never said anything like that to him before. Her younger self would never have verbalized her desires so plainly, or used such crude language. But she was no longer a girl, and apparently this new Veronica didn't hold back.

"God, Veronica," he groaned, finally pulling his cock out of his shorts. Veronica looked down at it like she might want to make a meal out of it. And another time - very soon, in fact - he would definitely let her. But not right now. Right now he was going to fuck her brains out.

He pushed his pants and his shorts just below his ass, and pulled Veronica's body so that it was positioned at the very edge of the table. She was still wearing a tiny scrap of lace panties, and he set about pushing aside the tiny piece of silk that covered her pussy.

When he felt how wet she was, he had to grit his teeth not to come all over her in the next ten seconds. He was lining himself up at her entrance when he suddenly remembered that they were using no protection.

 _Shit!_

By this time it was an effort for him to even speak, as he sought Veronica's eyes. "What about...?"

"It's fine, Logan," she said, understanding. "Not a problem."

"You're sure?" Logan couldn't believe that he was able to even think straight in the state he was in.

"I said it was fine! Goddammit, Logan, just fuck me!"

"Yes, ma'am," he growled, sinking into Veronica at last.

Logan closed his eyes, nearly overwhelmed with the ecstasy of being inside Veronica again. It was like a goddamn aphrodisiac. Fucking Veronica was better than any drug he'd ever tried...and at one time or another he'd tried them all.

He wanted to pull her against him as they fucked, to feel her tits as he snapped in and out of her. He ripped off his jacket and nearly choked himself in his eagerness to divest himself of his shirt and tie. But at last he was able to crush her breasts to his naked chest, at the same time assaulting her with a kiss so hot and so wet that it left them both breathless.

Logan broke the kiss finally, feeling the need to pull some air into his lungs, and wondered just how much longer he could last. He looked down at this woman that he loved like no other, his heated gaze falling on the point where their bodies were joined, and he watched himself as he entered her over and over with sweet, deliberate strokes.

Veronica glanced up at him through her lashes, and languidly moved one hand from where it gripped the edge of the table, bringing it down to the point where they were fucking. She began to caress them both at once.

Watching her soft fingers move in tandem with his cock was just enough to send Logan over the edge, and Veronica as well. He felt her clench around him as he exploded into her.

They crashed against each other, panting, waiting for their hearts to stop racing and their breathing to regulate itself. He supposed he might have had another orgasm as powerful and as satisfying, and probably it had even been with Veronica. But if he had, right then he couldn't seem to remember it.

It was awkward getting rid of the rest of his clothing - pants were not meant to be taken off while one was still wearing shoes - but nothing else about the situation was awkward. Before the past month they hadn't seen each other in nine years, but their bodies were not the only parts of their relationship that were still in tune.

When Logan was naked at last - and Veronica had finally slipped off those damned dangerous spike heels - they retired to her bedroom. For some conversation.

He knew they really needed to talk, but it wasn't too long before he began to think that talking was overrated. Round two sounded like a lot more fun. The edge was off now, they weren't so frenzied. They could take their time. Which they did.

Every time.

The aftershocks from round four were sending Logan into dreamland when he heard Veronica murmur, "I have a confession to make."

Logan's ears perked up. Veronica voluntarily admitting to... _anything?_

"You've never been so well-fucked in your life," he guessed, leaning over to kiss the tip of her nose.

"Oh, please," she rolled her eyes, but he could see the pink tinges on her fair skin. "Your head is already too big. No need for me to feed the monster."

"Yeah, well I have heard that," Logan smirked, glancing down his body to where his formerly active body part finally lay quiescent.

Veronica groaned. "Really, Logan? Dick jokes? What are you, twelve?"

"Hey, this dick is no joke," Logan said, grinning. "Or at least you didn't think so a little while ago when you had your mouth wrapped around..."

Veronica narrowed her eyes, but her face was flaming. "Do you want to hear this or not?" she said. "You know, it's not often I offer to give away my secrets."

Logan pulled her against his side, entertained to find that when the lust faded, even new Veronica was capable of post-coital embarrassment.

"I'm all ears," he said, trying for serious, but, he was very much afraid, sounding merely amused.

"Um, well," she began, and Logan cocked his brow when she failed to continue.

"You know, you don't have to tell me anything you don't want to, Veronica. You're allowed your secrets."

"No, that's not it." She frowned. "I just feel a little silly. It's about...," her eyes closed in what appeared to be embarrassment, "the beach. That day we ran into each other at the beach."

"Okay," he nodded, "what about it?"

"The thing is," she sighed finally, resigned to her apparent pending humiliation. "I'd been borrowing Deputy from Dad every day and walking her along Dog Beach," she finished in a rush, "hoping I might run into you surfing there."

Logan looked at her for a moment and then threw back his head and laughed.

"Okay," Veronica said, clearly mortified. "So I know it's a middle-school move, but I couldn't make myself stay away."

Logan shook his head and wrapped his arms around her tightly.

"No, that's not it." He pulled back, cupped her face in his hands and smiled down at her. "I'd been trying to get Dick to surf at Dog Beach ever since I ran into you at _Amy's_. I didn't even know if you still had a dog, but I knew you used to like that beach. And then the first day I talked him into it, there you were."

Veronica grinned at the absurdity of it. Two adults acting like idiotic pre-teens.

"When I saw it was actually you walking along the beach, I just couldn't believe it had worked. Of course, I thought you were still with Piz then, so..." Logan shrugged.

"Well, I suppose that technically I was," she acknowledged, snuggling into the curve of his arm. "But it all worked out in the end." Veronica yawned sleepily.

As Logan spooned contentedly against her, it occurred to him that he'd been wrong. The very last thing he might have expected when he returned to shore duty was not that Veronica would be back in Neptune. It was that she'd come back into his life. Back into his heart. That a few short weeks later, he'd find himself curled around her small frame, listening to the sounds of her shallow breathing, happier than he'd ever remembered being.

XXXXXXXXXX

Logan was grateful that at last he and Veronica had had good timing. While there were the occasional training missions and other career obligations that sometimes took him away, for the most part he was around. His long stateside posting would give them the time they needed to make it all work.

Not that they'd had any problems getting comfortable being around one another again. The passion was there, of course, just like it had always been, but Logan knew there was much more to it than that. They'd always been so deeply connected that it seemed like their attachment was at the cellular level.

If only there weren't all that _other_ stuff.

They were adults, with careers and responsibilities. His career could be dangerous, and so could hers. With the people he loved, Logan was open. Veronica tended to be guarded. So there were adjustments, accommodations, and allowances to be made. It was a matter of figuring out what worked best.

And then there were the other people. Their friends. Family. _All that shit._

Mac had had no problem with Logan becoming a major part of Veronica's life, which Logan thought was fortunate, since the women worked together every day. But then again, Mac told him that she had a strict non-interference policy when came to the personal lives of her friends.

"And besides," she explained to him very succinctly one night when she was halfway between tipsy and plastered, "eventually Veronica would become bored silly with anyone who was too nice."

Logan thought he probably should have been at least a little insulted by that statement, but he was mostly just amused.

Dick Casablancas and Wallace Fennel were not quite so amenable. Logan loved Dick like a brother, and Wallace had been Veronica's best friend since high school, but their relationship put a strain on both those friendships.

Dick caved first, as Logan had known he would, reduced eventually to the occasional pout when Logan was unavailable to be his wingman or his surfing buddy. Veronica still rolled her eyes every time Dick referred to her as "Ronnie," but worked hard to squelch the automatic sharp retort.

Wallace was a tougher sell, because Wallace couldn't seem to understand why Veronica would ever prefer Logan to Piz. And he was being damn stubborn about it. Piz was such a _good_ guy, treated Veronica so _well_ , would _never_ cause her pain. His mantra was constant and unvaried.

Veronica had tried several times to explain to Wallace that those traits were equally true of Logan, now that he and Veronica had finally managed to deal with all their shit. And besides, Veronica _loved_ _Logan_. Not Piz. Naively, perhaps, she thought that that was really the point and so ought to end the discussion. But Logan wasn't terribly surprised to hear that it hadn't.

Eventually Veronica gave up, contenting herself with seeing less of Wallace, and always without Logan, but Logan could see how much she missed her best friend. After three months of watching her face crumple whenever Wallace's name was mentioned, he decided to take matters into his own hands. One night when Veronica was busy with a stakeout, Logan arrived unannounced at Wallace's door with a cold six-pack and the firm intention of having it out.

One beer in, Wallace was telling Logan what an asshole he was for worming his way back into Veronica's life. Logan listened, sipped his own beer, and nodded.

"I love her," was all he said.

Two beers in, Wallace was carefully explaining to Logan that if he ever hurt Veronica in any way, Wallace would take him apart piece by piece. Logan thought about his rigorous fitness regimen, the hours of hand-to-hand combat training, the massive amount of physical exertion it took just to keep in good enough shape to do his damn job. And he was still quite certain that Wallace would find a way to make good on that threat.

"I'd never hurt Veronica," he said. "I love her."

By the time they'd polished off the beer, the discussion had meandered over a lot of territory and Logan was beginning to sense a breakthrough. Wallace was accepting the inevitable, but it came with a whine.

"Goddammit, Echolls. I really don't want to like you," he complained.

Logan considered mentioning his well-documented charisma, but then he thought maybe he'd better quit while he was ahead. They spent the rest of the evening battling it out on the latest version of Grand Theft Auto, while Logan wondered why the hell he hadn't come up with this idea a lot sooner.

He never told Veronica about that visit, and he was pretty sure Wallace hadn't either. But when Wallace shortly after accepted one of her dinner invitations, and showed up at the door with a six-pack and handshake for Logan, it would have been impossible to miss the way her face lit up, or the sudden moisture in her eyes.

Logan was certain that no other "mission accomplished" would ever give him such a sense of quiet satisfaction.

And then of course there was Veronica's dad. He didn't kid himself that Keith Mars was in any way delighted at the recent turn his daughter's life had taken. When his physical health improved enough for Keith to return to Mars Investigations, Logan was concerned. He never wanted to become a bone of contention between father and daughter. But by then, it appeared that Keith was willing to hold judgment in abeyance. Willing to take on trust that his daughter knew what she was doing.

Logan was always well aware that he was no more than one screw-up away from Keith Mars's shit list, and he worked very diligently at remaining off that list. And accepted the possibility that his relationship with Keith would forever remain a work in progress.

XXXXXXXXXX

Logan was pretty certain that none of their small circle of family and friends ever thought that Logan and Veronica would still be _Logan-and-Veronica_ by the time he was due for his next deployment. But they'd not just made it through the past twenty months, their relationship had flourished, and that bone-deep connection was stronger than ever.

They'd already talked about it, of course, spent hours and hours discussing what it would be like being apart for so long. Logan knew Veronica was apprehensive, that she'd never been successful at the long-distance-romance thing. But Logan's departure was inevitable, and now that it was finally here, she told him she'd decided she was just going to have to suck it up.

"It's either miss you terribly for the months you're gone...or miss you terribly for the rest of my life. Not even a contest there."

Logan was relieved all over again. He supposed he'd unconsciously been holding his breath, fearful that she might come to her senses. Make a clean break. And that would have just about killed him.

He didn't want to leave her either. But he _did_ want to come back to her.

"You know you don't have to come down to see me off," he said, as they lay in bed holding each other tightly on their last night together. Storing up a trunkful of tactile memories to bring out and savor during the lonely months to come.

Veronica shrugged, uncertain. "I don't know. Will it be a madhouse?"

"Complete chaos," he said, laughing. "We can have our own private goodbye here in the morning."

And so they did. But when Logan later emerged from his bedroom dressed in his service whites, his seabag slung over his shoulder, he found Veronica fully dressed and on her way out to pay off the taxi he'd arranged for the night before.

"Come on, I'll drive you," she said with a tired smile.

She said very little on the drive to the base, and Logan wondered why she'd wanted to come. But he wouldn't complain. And extra hour with Veronica could never be a bad thing.

They joined the throng of family member all grasping at just one more minute with their loved one. He saw the sadness in Veronica's eyes, and as much as he loved having these last few precious moments with her, he wondered again why she was putting herself through this.

Logan dropped his seabag at his feet and pulled her into his arms.

"Hey," he said quietly, rubbing her back. "I'm sorry you're so sad. Don't get me wrong, Veronica, I love that you're here, but it's the last thing I would have expected. I'd have been happy if my last glimpse of you was in my bed, wearing my shirt, and looking sexy as hell."

Veronica abruptly pulled herself out of his arms, grabbed his face, and kissed him soundly.

"Damn you, Logan Echolls," she said fiercely. "I'm tired of you having such low expectations for your life. From now on, expect good things."

Logan nodded.

"Okay," he said, impulsively deciding to take her at her word and seize the day. "When I get back, I'll expect you to marry me."

Her mouth dropped open on a gasp. He laughed because it wasn't often he could surprise Veronica Mars.

"Gotta go," he said, kissing her cheek. He hoisted his seabag over his shoulder and set off toward the boat. Just before boarding, when turned around to give her a wave, Veronica was still standing there, mouth agape.

As he boarded and offered his salute to the Officer of the Day, he couldn't help smiling. Talk about expectations.

Logan was pretty damn sure that that was the _last_ thing Veronica had expected.


End file.
